


Male Call

by KahtyaSofia



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, Military, One Shot, Porn Skirmish: Generation Kill, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/KahtyaSofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the following prompt: Colbert/Fick: As an outlet for this thing he has for Nate, Brad writes - then immediately burns - filthy letters to Nate. When he's injured before he can burn the latest, Doc finds the letter and gives it to Nate (in case Brad gets casevaced). Brad doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Male Call

His team was asleep in their graves and seats of the Humvee. Brad felt like he was alone in the world, in spite of the sounds of the company around him. He dug out his spiral notebook. It was large enough for notes, the paper un-ruled for sketches of potential recon targets, but small enough to slide neatly into one of his pockets. He'd seen the Lieutenant scribbling in a similar one from time to time.

Thoughts of Lt. Fick had Brad's heart rate kicking up, just as it always did. He respected his Lieutenant. He liked him, too. What Brad felt went beyond that and it disturbed him. He wasn't sure just what the fuck it was he felt.

They were in theater and Brad had to get his head on straight pretty fucking fast or someone would get dead and that someone could very well be him. Brad had never been one for writing longhand. He preferred typing his journal into encrypted documents. That just wasn't going to happen out here, so instead, he grabbed a pen and his red light.

_Lieutenant Fick-_

_I've never been the kind of Marine that wanted or needed the approval of my commanding officer. I know when I do a good job. I know I am a good Marine. Why I suddenly find myself desiring your approval, I don't fucking know. Why I find myself trying to please you is beyond me. Knowing I am a good Marine isn't enough anymore; I need you to think well of me and it's fucking making me nuts._

_Why you? What is it about you in particular? I keep myself apart from the collective group, but I like being around you. What the fuck, LT?_

_Just a few minutes ago, you and I stood together in the dark overlooking Nasiriya and I could hardly keep my mind on what you were saying. That never fucking happens to me. I had to keep my eyes on the desert before us or risk staring at your mouth while you talked._

_I need to sort this out and get over it. The trouble is, I don't really want to._

_Sgt. Brad Colbert_

Brad quietly slid out of the Humvee and walked several yards away. He turned his back to the company and took out his lighter. He tore the page from his notebook and held it to the lighter flame, watching smoke and paper drift upward into the Iraqi night.

~~~

_Lieutenant-_

_Doc just left. He was impressed with your decisiveness in sending him out to see to Alpha's injured. He said he didn't even get his entire request spoken before you were giving him the go to step off. Doc and I are hard to impress but you seem to be doing just fine by us._

_I am not the class clown, as you have probably discerned by now. I make those around me laugh at the expense of others. I say the things I do for my own benefit, I couldn't give two shits if anyone else finds me humorous. This is no surprise to anyone. It seems to only be you that I actively try to make laugh. I like your smile, and I shouldn't. I like the way your eyes sparkle when you find humor in something. I should not fucking like that. I think I made you laugh, although you fought against it, with my crack about respecting the pajama._

_That is so fucked up._

_You made my heart race and my dick get hard when you stood at my window going over the maps on the Blue Force Tracker. My palms were actually fucking sweaty from just looking you in the eye. Remember earlier today when you were explaining the change in the ROE for me to pass on? Your words barely registered 'cause I kept wondering what you'd look like on your knees._

_I sure fucking hope you don't ever realize what's going on in my head._

_Sgt. Colbert_

Brad flicked off his red light and slid into the darkness. Once again, he tore the page from his notebook and lit it with his lighter. He watched the embers drift up until they disappeared in the night sky.

~~~

_Lieutenant-_

_Did you know I got dumped? It's a long fucking story and I'm well on my way to being over it. Once in awhile, like when Trombley gets diarrhea of the mouth and goes on and on about his wife, I get really fucking pissed off and I lash out._

_Usually, it passes pretty quickly. This time though, picking on Trombley didn't make me feel better. I sat in my seat in the Humvee and wondered where you were and what you were doing and if I could come up with an excuse to just be around you for a little while._

_Are you fucking with me intentionally? Do you have any awareness at all of how hard it was to kneel down next to you and discuss taking a team to clear the enemy encampment, when all I wanted to do was knock you to the ground and crawl on top of you. I want to shove my tongue down your throat and then shove my dick down there, too._

_Would you roll over for me? Would you go face down in the sand and let me lift your ass into the air? Could I strip your trousers down to your knees and spread you open with my hands? Would you let me lick you, spit on your clenching hole to lube you up? Would you scream my name when I shoved my cock inside you? Could I ride you hard, fuck your hole til you were raw? I'd take care of you. I'd jack you off before I came. I'd make sure you enjoyed it._

_I know it's impossible, but I'd like to know someday if you would have liked me to fuck you._

_Sgt. Colbert_

This time, Brad set the letter in the sand before lighting it up. He couldn't watch the ash drift upward into the dark, so he just watched it burn to nothing in the pale sand. It didn't seem to matter that the LT would never see what Brad had been writing. It seemed to be enough that Brad could get the words out.

~~~

_LT-_

_My dick is so hard right now it could pound nails. You did this to me, LT. You and your eyes and your mouth and your voice and your fucking hand on my arm. You have a set of steel balls and brain enough to know when to grab them and when to just let shit go. My gut clenched when you said you were glad I was your Team Leader. There's that fucking need for your goddamn approval, again._

_I was pissed off and feeling sorry for myself until you walked up. You made it all better just by existing. Then you sent me into the line of fire and I went, without a second thought. That's what a Marine is supposed to do. Now that we've survived, I'm so jacked up on adrenaline and lust I don't think a combat jack is going to be enough._

_Jesus fucking Christ, how did you hold the shit together today? You didn't hesitate to send Pappy and Rudy out to do what they're good at. You sent me into a hostile town in your point vehicle and you let me do my job. When Encino Man fucked up, I was ready to rip into his sorry, incompetent ass. I didn't because you told me not to. I actually held my fucking tongue because I wanted your approval. I don't ever remember this happening to me before._

_I'm lying in my grave and I'm going to burn this letter, like all the others, and then get some sleep. What would you do if I strolled over and crawled into your grave with you? Would you protest or would you open your mouth and your ass for me? Would you let me grind my hard cock against you? Would you get hard from feeling me? I think about what it would feel like if you bucked upward, shoving your own hard cock into mine. Would you let me kiss you? Would you kiss back? I bet you're a good kisser. You like it hot and wet and sloppy, don't you, Nate? You lick with your tongue, suck at your lover's lips, don't you? Would you let me take you out of your pants and stroke you? Would you let your legs fall open, dig your heels in and fuck up into my fist? I bet you have the prettiest cock. It's probably not super long but it's fat, isn't it? Thick and red and weeping when I get you all worked up. Would you let me slide down and suck you? I want to know what you taste like. Your skin and your cum are probably both delicious. I'd suck you hard, use a lot of tongue. I'd let you slide down my throat until I choked, so I could pull off and do it all again._

_Would you reciprocate if I made you cum?_

_You make me want to find out, and that's dangerous. To my life and to my sanity._

_Colbert._

Brad burned the letter next to his grave before curling up to sleep. Before he knew it, Ray was kicking him awake to go in search of a missing officer.

Fucking Command.

~~~

Ray and War Scribe were asleep in their seats. Trombley dozed while he monitored the comms. They had settled in for the long wait as Alpha executed their recon mission on the airfield. Brad decided to take advantage and see if he couldn't get a little sleep. First, he needed to get something off his chest.

Brad took out his notebook. If anyone came to his window or stirred in the Humvee, he'd close it quickly. He knew Trombley couldn't see actual words from his seat in the rear of the victor.

_LT-_

_Fucking with you is quite fun. I suspect you're fucking with me in return. Even if you are, you're still managing to keep me in line. I was fucked up after watching RCT1 open up on that hamlet. I'm still pissed at Encino Man, but you were right. I needed to focus. You're proving to be good for me, Nate. Maybe that's not really such a good thing._

_You know we're aware when you can't raise Hitman on comms, right? We know when he's left you hanging. I know that you'll never do that to me. You're good at your job. You look pretty fucking spectacular doing your job, too._

_You're so fucking hot when you're trying not to laugh at my jokes. Do you know that? I saw you struggle not to laugh at my joke about the virgin whore and KY._

_If I bought you a whore would you let me watch you fuck her? How about him? Could we share the whore?_

_What do you look like when you're fucking, Nate? I wonder. I wonder all the time. I picture it; fantasize about it so I can jack off. I bet your face gets all pink and flushed. Your eyes probably glow a bright green. Your cocksucking mouth gets bright red, I bet. It's shiny from where you run your tongue over your lips._

_I really want to throw you down on your back and grab you behind the knees so I can press them back against your chest. I want to fold you in half so I can have easy access to your cherry ass. I want to pull my cock out and shove it back in until my balls slap your ass and then do it all again. When I'm done, your poor little stretched ass is going to be bright red and raw._

_If I told you to, would you jack yourself until you came on your own chest?_

_You know when you brought the LSA and I said I could kiss you? You looked away and huffed, acting like I didn't mean it. You know I did though, don't you? You want me to, don't you?_

_Of course not. You have no idea how I feel. That's okay. Just keep laughing at my jokes and watching my six._

_Colbert_

Brad nodded off before he could burn the letter, so he had to take it with him on the assault of the airfield. He made sure to light it up as soon as darkness fell. It would be completely fucked to have a letter like that found on his person if he were injured or killed. It would not only fuck him up, but Nate, too.

He'd burn them right away from now on.

~~~

_Nate-_

_If I weren't so fucking aware of you, I would have been completely unaware of the unfolding drama of the shepherd boy. I had my team gathered around and we were servicing our weapons like good little post-battle Marines. You, tearing out of camp with a purpose, are what piqued my interest and made me follow._

_Did you push to have the boy cas-evaced because you felt responsible? I gave Trombley the order to fire. You passed down the change in the ROE. Does that help you understand how this is weighing on me? Do you fear failing me when I look to you for support and guidance? I'm afraid I'm letting my team down whenever they turn to me. As lonely as I am as just a TL, it must be so much worse for you._

_Would it help if I reached out to you? Would it help you to lose yourself in the heat of my mouth? If I could, I'd get us a hotel room with clean sheets and a big shower. I'd crawl up on the bed for you, on my hands and knees and spread myself out for you. I want you to watch me lube my fingers and slide them up my ass. I'd slide one finger in, but that's hardly anything. I'd slide two fingers up my ass and fuck myself on them. My cock would be so hard, knowing you were watching me fuck myself with my own fingers. I'd use my other hand to reach between my legs and grab my own balls. I'd let you see me squeeze and tug at them. Then, I'd stroke my own cock, just for you to watch._

_I want you to fuck me. I want you to crawl up on the bed behind me and slide your dick in my ass. I got it ready for you. I want you to fuck me into the mattress, Nate. Make me feel you for days later. When you were buried all the way inside of me I'd make myself cum so you could feel me. Would that make you cum? I'd be hot and tight around you; you'd feel every wave as my jizz shot out the end of my dick. Would you cum inside me then?_

_I don't know about you but just cumming into my own hand isn't enough, these days. Sometimes, I think all I need is to touch a warm body. Then I realize any warm body won't do. I really want to touch you, feel you, smell you. It's your cock I want. It's your ass I want to bury myself in. I'd make it good for you. I could do that for you._

_Brad_

Brad burned the letter in the sand of the berm before heading back to his Humvee. He noted that Reporter had shored up the sides of his hole.

~~~

_Nate-_

_Ray has actually shut the fuck up for once. Something happened with Charlie Company but Rudy won't talk about it. It's quiet, finally. Quiet in the dark is dangerous for me, lately. It gives me time to think about you._

_Command has us both angry and frustrated. The ROE has us both angry and frustrated. We're fucking snapping at each other when we should just be fucking._

_Even now, I want to stride across camp and tear your Kevlar from your head. I want to wrap both hands around your head and shove you to your knees in front of me. I'm getting hard just thinking about it, I'd be throbbing if I ever got the chance to push you down. I'd take my cock out with one hand and hold you steady with the other. Then I'd drag the head of dick along your lower lip, making it wet with my pre-come. I'd paint your upper lip the same way, forcing your face up toward mind so I could watch your eyes as I dragged my cock along your mouth. Your mouth that is made for sucking cock._

_I'd try to surprise you by shoving my dick into your mouth, then. You'd look so hot, lips wrapped my cock and green eyes staring up at me begging for me to fuck your mouth You'd take it all and not complain cause you like cock, don't you Nate? You like my cock. I'd hold you steady and fuck your face hard and fast, slamming into your throat with each thrust._

_I really want to watch you eat my cum. I'd pull out and jack myself over your face. You'd open your mouth wide for me; stick your tongue out to catch my spunk when I shot it at you. I can see your pink mouth and tongue waiting impatiently as my own fist works my cock. I'd shout your name when I come, shooting my jizz across your cheeks, your nose, your lips and letting you catch some on your tongue. You're hungry for me and you'd lick the last of my cum from the tip of my dick._

_You'd be really fucking pretty with my cum on your face, Nate. What I wouldn't give to see that?_

_Brad._

~~~

_Nate-_

_I'm supposed to be asleep. I tried to get Walt to sleep but he wanted to work on the MK19. I'm just tired enough not to insist and to crawl into my grave._

_If Griego doesn't shut his fucking mouth about you, he's going to find my Ka-Bar in his throat. You are no coward, Nate. Of this, I am sure._

_You are, however, a cocktease. Thank fucking Christ our MOPP suits are loose and shapeless cause I sprang wood instantly at the sight your pretty mouth smirking at me when you said we weren't going into Al Kut._

_Nate Fick, you have made me your bitch._

_Don't be surprised if some night you find me crawling bare-assed naked into your grave with you. I'd take your cock out and stroke you until you were hard. I'd spit in my hand a couple of time, and then have you spit there, too. I'd cover your cock with our spit and then I'd sit down on it. It would burn and it would hurt, that dry stretch. But it would be good because it would be your cock up my ass. I'd ride you hard and fast, taking you deep. I'd jack myself off, cumming on your chest and your face._

_I've got good aim with my dick, did you know? I'd get some of my jizz on your lips and then I'd lean over and suck it off, kissing you when I was done so you could taste me._

_I'm going to burn this letter now, but I can't help wondering what you'd think if you found it and read it._

_Brad_

~~~

_Nate-_

_Thank you. Thank you for listening to me and giving our plan a chance. It's on us that it failed but Walt and I will find our way clear of what went down and how it went down._

_If you don't end up killing me, first._

_Your eyes and your face are so mobile and expressive when you're weighing options and coming to a decision. I get such a huge fucking hardon when you look like that. I stood there with you at the roadblock today, tired and frustrated and willing you to agree to our plan. I could hardly focus on making my argument because your eyes and your mouth keep distracting me._

_I'm tired, Nate. I'd like nothing more for you to take me out of my own fucking head for just a little while. Could you do that for me? Could you shove my face into the canvas of your truck, press yourself into my back so I can feel your hard cock against my ass? Rudy has to have something in that fucking dop-kit of his that we could use for lube. You could borrow it, slick up your cock, shove my pants down around my ankles and fuck me up against the side of your truck. We're both filthy and smelly and covered in dirt and sweat and when you were done we'd both smell like cum._

_I think I'd like that; to smell your cum on my balls whenever I took a piss. I'd probably get hard again, the heat of the sun and the hot wind of the desert making the dirty smell of your sex drift up to me as I took a leak._

_Forgetting who I am for a few minutes with your cock up my ass and then getting to smell you on my own balls afterward, just might get me through this goat-roping-cluster-fuck._

_B._

~~~

_N-_

_You, sir, are pure sex in camo. You actually delivered that cheesy moto bullshit as if you believed it. You know we're not buying it, right? That whole, 'we led the feint to Al Kut' crap is just that; crap._

_You respect your men but you also find humor in them. When you smirked and lifted your eyebrows I had visions of bending your ass over the hood of my victor and fucking you raw._

_Now that I think about it, I'd like to tie your hands behind your back with my delta tourniquet. I'd gag you with your own. I'd like to shove your face into the hood of my Humvee and cut your pants away with my Ka-Bar. I can just see it now; you spread wide by my hands and the tip of my cock disappearing up inside of you a little at a time. You couldn't scream 'cause you'd be gagged. You're a Marine so you probably wouldn't scream, at least not in pain. You'd scream my name, maybe 'cause you'd like it._

_Even though I'd have you trussed up like my bitch, you'd be pushing back into me, impaling yourself on my cock. I'd fuck you so hard, you're cock would rub up against the fender of my victor and you'd shoot your spunk all over it._

_And I wouldn't clean it, either. I'd have Ray drive me all through Iraq with your dried jizz on my fender._

_You make for a great combat jack but it's getting harder to look without touching._

_B._

~~~

_Nate-_

_You're fucking with me, sir. I'm sitting here in the dark, having successfully completed that recon mission we discussed, and I can't help but think back over the conversation we had up against my Humvee._

_Something about the look in your eye, the tilt of your head, the lift of your mouth. It had me wondering if you know how I feel about you. You've also got me wondering if you might feel the same. That's a dangerous fucking road to go down, though._

_I respect you, sir. I admire you. Regardless, I'm willing to drop to my knees and suck your cock if you asked. Sometimes, like tonight, I think you want to ask. Most of the time I'm afraid it's wishful fucking thinking._

Brad was interrupted before he finished. He tucked his notebook away with the intention of finishing the letter at his next free moment.

***

They were all on alert. They sat in, and around, their Humvees, weapons at the ready. Still, no one really expected there to be a real threat. That was why they all jumped violently when fucking Alpha opened up on the field that Colbert had led Garza and Trombley into.

Doc brought his SAW up along with everyone else in Bravo, searching for the threat and wanting desperately to get some. Their perception shifted rapidly as they all saw Patterson take off at a run after his own men's Humvees further down the line. Person racing over open ground in Hitman 2-1-Alpha's victor clinched it. The fucktards in Alpha were shooting at Two-One and couldn't hear the cease-fire order being shouted over the comm.

Patterson and Ray got things under control, but calm lasted only a moment. Doc's adrenaline was already pumping when he heard the singular cry that was his personal call to action.

"Corpsman! Man down! Man down!" Trombley stood in the field waiving an arm frantically. Doc grabbed his gear and took off into the field at a dead run.

He expected to come upon a downed Garza being tended to by a calm and collected Colbert. He almost stumbled when he saw Garza tying off Brad's delta tourniquet around his bloody leg. Colbert was on his back, trying desperately not to writhe in pain and slowly sliding into shock.

Doc came to his knees beside Brad's supine form. He tore open his gear and began a rapid visual assessment. "Brad, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Colbert gasped, eyes staring blankly up into the sky. His men had removed his Kevlar and loosened his vest. Doc guessed that meant they weren't total fucking retards. The only visual signs of injury were to Brad's left leg but Doc knew he had to assess it for himself. Especially since parts of Brad's uniform seemed to be frayed, as if flying rounds had nicked them.

"Hitman-2-Actual," Doc keyed his mic. "Two-One-Actual is down. Repeat; Colbert is down." Doc had no illusions that that transmission would do anything other than bring Lt. Fick over at a run. He occupied himself with opening Brad's clothing to check for injuries other than the obvious.

There was something bulky in the thigh pocket of Brad's pants. Doc tugged it out and saw that it was Colbert's recon journal. It was open to a page with Brad's own handwriting on it. The salutation of the note is what arrested Doc's attention but the final paragraph confirmed what he'd long suspected.

_Nate-_

_I respect you, sir. I admire you. Regardless, I'm willing to drop to my knees and suck your cock if you asked. Sometimes, like tonight, I think you want to ask. Most of the time I'm afraid it's wishful fucking thinking._

Doc flipped the notebook cover closed and shoved it into his own gear to be dealt with later. What the fuck, Brad? He thought silently. It was more than fortunate that he'd found the notebook instead of one of the other guys or even someone outside of Division.

By the time the LT and Gunny came charging up, Doc was getting Brad's vitals. The worst of the injuries were to his leg and a shallow graze to a shoulder. No vital structures had been hit but Colbert was in a shitload of pain.

"What's his status, Doc?" LT shouted as he came thundering up, Gunny Wynn hot on his heels.

"He's been zipped about three and a half times by friendly," Doc began his rundown as Nate took a knee next to him, laying a hand on Brad's shoulder. "Three entries and exits in his left leg and one graze on his left shoulder. There's surprisingly little tissue damage, which makes me think they were only fragments, though. Vitals are solid and stable and I'm about to administer Morphine for the pain."

"He'll be okay?" the LT asked sharply, his eyes locked on Brad's.

Doc took out a small ampoule and tore off the tip. He sank the sharp end into Colbert's uninjured thigh and squeezed.

Just about a minute later, Brad gave an audible sigh of relief.

"All entries seem to have exits so there's nothing that needs removing," Doc continued as he checked Brad's pressure again. "Nothing vital hit and bleeding is under control. I just need to patch him up, control his pain and get him cas-evaced."

"No, no goddamn cas-evac," Colbert protested in a gravelly voice. "Patch me up and hand me my fucking weapon." Brad's eyes were focusing now.

"Brad," Nate barked. "You've been shot four times…"

"Three." Brad protested and made as if to sit up.

Doc pushed Colbert back down with a little help from the LT.

"The point is, Sergeant," Nate leaned over Brad, forcing their eyes to meet. "You've been fucking wounded and you need to go get the appropriate care."

"I ride in a fucking Humvee, sir," Brad replied coolly. "We're not on a forced march. Stafford took shrapnel in his leg and didn't get cas-evaced."

"If Doc determines that you're fucking combat ineffective," Nate was making this part a direct order, "You will be cas-evaced, Sergeant. Is that clear?"

"Roger, sir," Doc could tell Brad agreed reluctantly.

He patched Colbert up as best he could. The smaller wounds weren't serious, but Doc just didn't trust that Brad's largest through-and-through wouldn't fester out here in butt-fuck Iraq. He flooded Colbert full of antibiotics, declared him combat ineffective and the LT requested a bird for the cas-evac.

Doc got his patient settled on a stretcher in the shade of his Humvee while they waited for Brad's transport. He doped him up royally, which had the pleasant secondary effect of putting Colbert to sleep so they weren't forced to listen to him complain about being sent to a hospital like a pussy.

He stood in conference with the LT and Gunny while they told him that Brad's evacuation was going to be delayed for one fucked up reason or another. Command being Command, Doc thought. It boiled down to him having to keep a close eye on Brad for a few hours until they could ship him out.

"Could I get a private word, Lieutenant?" Doc asked quietly. He watched as Nate and Wynn exchanged curious looks, but the LT walked out with him enough that they wouldn't be overheard. Gunny stayed with the truck.

He turned slightly, blocking the hand off from prying eyes. Doc withdrew Brad's notebook from his own webbing and slid it discretely into Nate's hand.

"I had to take this off of Brad to treat him," he explained, deliberately not meeting the Lieutenant's eyes. "You need to read the last page, then burn it immediately."

Nate flipped through the notebook, past Brad's navigational and combat notes, to the page Doc indicated. His eyes grew wide and round as Doc watched him read the words Brad had written there.

"We call him the Iceman, sir," he heard himself saying softly. "But I think that proves that he's anything but. Pain and drugs are going to make already strong emotions seem that much more intense, LT."

Nate's slight nod was the only indication that he'd heard Doc's words.

"Tear it out and burn it, sir," Doc said quietly. "And then it will be as if it had never been written at all." Now he met Nate's eyes steadily. No one would ever learn from him what the notebook had contained.

"Thank you, Doc," Nate nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll see this gets back to Sgt. Colbert."

"Roger, sir," he said with a sharp nod of his head before striding back to check on Brad.

***

Brad was not getting cas-evaced. Doc had taken shrapnel out of Stafford's leg and he'd stayed with the company. Brad would do no less. There hadn't been anything to remove from his leg, anyway. He had a few holes in him and a small crease. Big fucking deal.

The longer the delay in getting him an evac, the less likely it seemed it would arrive before they had to step off. Doc's concern seemed to be easing. The critical time had passed, his vitals were good, and his pain was manageable. Climbing a mountain on a broken ankle had been much worse.

He could use his leg. It held his weight and his mobility was acceptable, but no one was letting him push it. Rudy and Garza had helped him into his seat in the victor.

"Hey, LT," Brad heard Ray shout and immediately he looked around for Nate's familiar form. "Would you order Brad to let himself be cas-evaced when we get clearance?"

"The window for me to do that reasonably is rapidly closing, Corporal," Nate said casually as he came to stand in front of Brad. "Sgt. Colbert is stable, mobile and coherent. Doc says if he doesn't spike a fever before we're oscar-mike, he might as well declare him fit for combat."

"He's got three holes in his fucking leg!" Ray shouted.

"Shut the fuck up, Ray," Brad interrupted. He wanted any talk of his being cas-evaced to end right the fuck now.

"Give us a moment, would you, gents?" Nate asked the Marines who seemed to be hovering around Brad. Immediately they all began to move off in different directions.

"It's looking like you're going with us when we step off," Nate said with direct candor. "But if I can get you an evac, I want you out of theater."

"I'm fine, sir," Brad argued respectfully. "Doc did a good job of patching me up and using the leg isn't a problem."

"As good as you are, Brad," Nate raised his eyebrows as he said this. "Even you are a liability if you're not functioning at your best."

Brad considered Nate's words, giving them extra weight simply because of who had spoken them. "Understood, sir. If you can get me an evac, I'll be on it. But, I think you and I both know I don't seem to be injured enough to be a priority."

"Be that as it may," Nate didn't look as though he was going give any ground. "You're a priority to me and if I can get you out here, you will get the care you need."

Brad studied Nate closely for a long moment, wondering if he was imagining the undercurrent that seemed to be rising between them.

"Solid copy, sir." Brad capitulated.

"Good," Nate said, reaching into his vest. "Now, I need to return something to you."

Brad's heart stopped when Nate produced his notebook. He hadn't even realized it was missing until that moment. "Where did you find that, sir?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Doc had to take it from you to treat you," Nate said quietly. "The last page has been removed and burned."

Brad took the notebook and immediately his knuckles whitened as he gripped it hard in trepidation. "Thank you, sir." He didn't know what else to say.

"Doc's had a convenient case of memory loss," Nate continued.

He nodded, "Understood, sir."

"As for the rather graphic description of what you'd like to do with your mouth," Nate's tone dropped and Brad's gut clenched. Here it came.

"Your recent injuries are severe enough to preclude anything that vigorous, I would think."

Brad's head snapped up in surprise.

"Got any ideas that wouldn't be quite so strenuous for your leg?" Nate was smirking that fucking smirk that drove Brad around the goddamn bend.

"I could come up with a few, sir," Brad said hesitantly, testing the waters. "Given the appropriate motivation."

"Up until recently," Nate's gaze grabbed and held Brad's. "It seems I've been sufficient motivation for you. Has that changed?"

Brad let his gaze bore into Nate's as he stepped off the cliff: "You're all the fucking motivation I need."

"All right, then," he released Brad's eyes and took a step back. "You're to sleep at night for the next few nights, regardless of the posted watch."

"Yes, sir," Brad replied on autopilot.

"I'll be by to check on you myself, so don't try to swap out with Hasser or someone else," Nate made that an order, but it was also an insinuation.

"I'll take to my grave as soon as the sun sets," Brad advised.

"See that you do." And with that, Nate spun on his heel strode away.

Brad immediately made plans to have someone dig his grave as far away from everyone else as he could manage without arousing suspicion. In the meantime, he had some ideas to think up that wouldn't tax his injured leg.


End file.
